


Not Perfect

by hobbleit



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Crying, Friendship, Hurt, M/M, Pain, Rape, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-27
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-06 12:05:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1857381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobbleit/pseuds/hobbleit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He leaned down and ran his fingers through the man’s beautiful blonde curls.  He didn’t flinch, he didn’t have the energy anymore to fight, and he had put up such a good fight, so he just lay there and cried.</p><p>“Oh, mon ange,” he whispered softly in his ear.  “You belong to me now.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For the Spin Hugo Spin Kink Meme. Request:
> 
> okay so there has been a prompt where a newcomer to the ABC, who is well liked, smart and a valuable asset rapes Grantaire and he keeps it a secret
> 
> i want this but with Enjolras being the victim instead on Grantaire because I am in the mood for some break the cutie and enjolras is a cutie ok.
> 
> I'll just add that I haven't read that particular fic about Grantaire so any similarities is entirely coincidental.

** Chapter One **

He looked down at the man lying in front of him with a glint in his eye.  The man was truly perfect in every way; he was beautiful and passionate, strong and intelligent and, now, laying on the ground of the alleyway with the light drops of rain glistening in his hair he was even more perfect.  His lips were red and swollen from when he had kissed and bitten him; his shirt was torn revealing his perfectly toned body.  It didn’t matter that the perfectly toned body was marred with bruises or that blood was running down his head and legs or that he was quietly sobbing.  No, the man was perfect and nothing was ever going to change that.

He leaned down and ran his fingers through the man’s beautiful blonde curls.  He didn’t flinch, he didn’t have the energy anymore to fight, and he had put up such a good fight, so he just lay there and cried.

“Oh, mon ange,” he whispered softly in his ear.  “You belong to me now.”

-x-

** A month earlier **

He had first seen Enjolras on the streets in the middle of a crowd.  Despite the large number of people and the general hullabaloo of the protest his eyes immediately fell upon the blonde angel and he was mesmerised. It was not as if he hadn’t seen protests before, they were fairly common but no-one had made his head turn like Enjolras.  He was beautiful but more than that he was passionate.  A fire burned in his eyes as he spoke and it was impossible for him not to fall in love with Enjolras there and then.  He had to know him.

It became a bit of an obsession with him.  He looked every day in the same place for a glimpse of his blonde angel, desperate to see him and talk to him, but he did not appear again.  Never mind, he thought, there was no way a man as beautiful as him would go unnoticed around the city.  Someone had to know who he was.

A few discussions with people on the street led him to meeting Enjolras and his friends.  They met in the back room of a coffee shop to discuss politics and protests and were always looking for new recruits so one day he decided to go along.  Not wanting to draw attention to himself, he sat down in the corner and watched the meeting take place.  He watched as Enjolras stood up and began a long and impassioned speech, his eyes never left the perfect angel in front of him at any point. 

Afterwards, he sat and waited for the room to clear and Enjolras was alone before rising from his seat and walking over to the beautiful blonde man.

“Hello, I’m Stephen,” he introduced.  “I saw you protesting the other day and your cause fascinated me so I was wondering if we could talk further.”

“Of course,” Enjolras gave a polite smile and motioned him to sit at the table.  He then sat down opposite him, “what were you wanting to discuss?”  He asked.

“I would like to join you and your friends.  I saw you in the city centre the other day and you have inspired me.  I firmly believe in the work you are doing and I would like to help in any way I can.”

“Anyone is welcome to join us,” Enjolras replied.

“Great,” he smiled and Enjolras couldn’t help but feeling a little unnerved.  There was something about him that didn’t quite sit well with Enjolras.

“Come by tomorrow and you can introduce yourself to everyone, they’ll be glad to have a new member,” he said as he quickly gathered up his papers.  “I’ll see you then,” he said his goodbyes and left.

-x-

“We can’t just sit around and let them treat people like this!”  Stephen exclaimed, greeted by the cries of agreement from everyone.  “They tell us what to do with our money, they tax the hell out of our food, out of everything and now they are telling us that we can only marry if we conform to their own principles, that heterosexuality is the only way that two people can commit to each other.  That’s not right!”

Another chorus of agreement rang around the room.  “We need to act now and show them that we mean business, that everyone should be allowed to commit no matter who they are in love with…”

For all intents and purposes Stephen seemed like the perfect addition.  He immersed himself fully into protesting and even gave them new ideas.  He was intelligent and well liked amongst everyone and had even managed to recruit a few people with his personable charm.  If anything, Enjolras should have been immensely pleased with him and if it had been anyone else he would have but there were times when he would catch Stephen looking at him with a glint in his eye.

“I’m not saying that he’s a liability, there’s just something about him that doesn’t sit right with me,” Enjolras later tried to explain to Combeferre how he felt.

“Are you sure it isn’t just some sort of jealousy?  You’re just used to being the undisputed leader and now he’s muscling in on your territory,” it had meant to be a joke but Enjolras didn’t see the funny side.  He scowled at his friend.

“It’s not like that at all.  I just sometimes catch him staring at me and it’s a bit creepy.”

“Enj, most people stare at you.  You have this look and presence that make people stare at you.”

“But not like this.”

“How does he stare at you exactly?”

“Like I’m a piece of meat.”

“Enj, you are an attractive man and there are a lot of people that stare at you that way.  You usually just ignore it.  Look, if it makes you feel any better I’ll make sure you’re not left alone with him, okay?”

Enjolras shook his head, feeling slightly embarrassed at feeling this way.  “I’m just over-reacting.  Maybe I am just a little bit jealous.  He has had some good ideas though.”

“I agree but if he makes you uncomfortable…”

“It’ll be fine,” Enjolras sighed.  “I’ll just have to get over it.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure but thanks for worrying about me.”

-x-

“See you on Saturday,” Enjolras called out to Combeferre who was the last one to leave as usual.  A few seconds later he was the only one in the room and he began gathering up his papers to leave.  A shiver ran down his spine when he realised that he was no longer alone.  There was someone else in the room and it greatly unnerved him.

“Sorry,” he heard Stephen’s voice come from behind him and he jumped slightly in shock before turning round to face the other man.  “I didn’t mean to startle you, I just forgot my bag,” he said as he pointed over to one of the tables to the large sack that was resting on the top.  “I’ll just be a moment and then I’ll be out of your way.”

“It’s all right,” Enjolras replied trying not to show his discomfort at being alone with a man he didn’t completely trust.  They were silent for a few seconds before Enjolras found his voice again, not wanting to look like a sullen and ignorant person.  “Hey, I don’t think I’ve said this before but you’ve had some great ideas since joining us.  We wouldn’t be doing this protest on Saturday without you.”

“Thanks,” Stephen grinned.  “It feels good to be helping.  I never felt like I had a purpose before,” he took a few steps towards Enjolras and leaned against the table he was standing near.  Despite feeling nervous Enjolras knew it would be rude to move away so he stayed where he was.  “I never knew that it could be such a rush, you know?”

Enjolras nodded.  “It is a rush but that’s not why I do it.”

“Oh, I know.  I’ve never seen someone so passionate about what they do before.  Every time you speak your eyes light up with this flame and I pity anyone who tries to oppose you.  You’re scary when you want to be.”

“So people have said,” Enjolras replied uncomfortably not entirely sure where this conversation was headed.

“It was that passion that made me want to join you.  I want to be like that.  I want to have that much passion and that much purpose.  You made me want to be a better man.”

“I’m glad I’ve managed to have such an effect on someone,” Enjolras said.  “Sometimes I get the feeling that people only come to these meetings so they can stare at me.  Most people don’t even take me seriously because they just think that I’m a pretty face.”

“You are so much more than that,” Stephen said, shifting closer to Enjolras.  He placed his hands on Enjolras’ shoulders.  “You are an inspiration,” he leaned in and brushed his lips against the other man’s.

Enjolras jumped back in shock, “what the hell?”  He protested.

“What did I do wrong?”  Stephen responded with a hurt tone of voice and a betrayed look on his face. 

“I don’t… I nev… never…”  Enjolras stuttered not quite able to find his bearings.  “I don’t want that,” he managed to say.

“How can you say that?  Like you said, most people are here to stare at you and admire you; you can’t blame a guy for wanting you.”

“But I’m not interested in you that way.  I’m not interested in anyone that way.”

“I think that you’re lying.  You can’t say that you’ve never had anyone.  Courfeyrac goes through people like nobody’s business and you and Combeferre seem very close.”

Enjolras backed away further.  “We’ve never… we’re just friends.  I’d never do that with them.”

Stephen grabbed hold of his arm and twisted him round so he was pressed against the table.  He leaned in so close he could hear Enjolras’ heart hammering in his chest.  “The only reason I am here is because I saw you and I wanted you.  I am going to have you no matter what it takes.

Enjolras could feel the fear course through him as he struggled to push the other man off but he was stronger so all his efforts were in vain.  “Get off me,” he gasped.

“I saw you that day on the street, peddling your wares like some cheap whore and I was entranced.  You are so beautiful and you don’t even seem to realise it.  Your lips are perfect and I just wanted to know what it was like to kiss them,” Stephen grabbed his face and leaned in once more to force a kiss upon Enjolras.  He struggled and tried to pull away but Stephen held him tight.  “So perfect,” he whispered against his lips.

“No,” Enjolras cried and struggled more but Stephen pushed him down onto the table and held his arms securely in place.  “Let me go.”

“I wonder what it’s going to be like to have you,” he ignored Enjolras’ protests.  “Are you going to scream?  I hope so, I like a screamer.  Will you struggle?  All the better if you do,” he said as he ran his hand up and down Enjolras’ chest before ripping his shirt, the buttons flying everywhere before his hand rested on Enjolras’ crotch.  He jumped and struggled but he couldn’t move.

“Do you like that?”

“No.”

“I think you do, the pretty little moans coming out of your mouth would suggest that you are gaining pleasure from our little game.  You’re going to enjoy this as much as me.”

“NO!”  Enjolras screamed and with on final burst of strength he pushed Stephen who lost his balance just enough for Enjolras to knock him off the table.  He quickly scrambled to his feet and ran as fast as he could.  He needed to find help and quick.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen catches up with Enjolras with devastating consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning: yes there is graphic descriptions of rape in this chapter.

** Chapter Two **

Enjolras ran down the empty street, his feet pounding on the pavement as he tried to think straight long enough to remember where to go.  All he knew was that he had to get away as quickly as possible and find somewhere, anywhere, safe. 

He could hear the footsteps behind him and he knew that Stephen was catching up with him quickly.  The rain kept splashing in his eyes and he cursed himself for having been so stupid as to be alone with that man but he just had to get away.  He could berate himself as much as he could once he knew that he was safe.

The alley seemed like a good place to run down at the time.  Enjolras thought that is he could get down the alley he could cut to another street and create some distance between him and Stephen.  Unfortunately he realised his error when he crashed into the end of the alley.  It was closed off.

“Damn it,” he cried and turned, hoping to get back out again but his heart sank when he saw a shadowy figure at the entrance of the alley.  He backed up against the wall as the figure moved closer towards him.  He braced himself and as Stephen tried to reach out and grab him Enjolras punched him as hard as he could in the face.  He tried to push past but Stephen grabbed his arm and shoved him hard against the wall, his head cracking painfully with the cold, wet brick.

“I love it that you’re fighting back,” he whispered harshly in Enjolras’ war as he struggled against him.  “It makes it so much sweeter.”

“Let me go,” Enjolras cried, wincing at the pain in his head.  He could feel the blood running down his cheek, mingling with the rain and dropping to the floor.

“I am going to have so much fun with you,” Stephen threw him to the ground and kicked him hard in the ribs several times.  Enjolras groaned in pain and tried to curl into a ball to protect himself but Stephen was too strong.  He grabbed him and picked him up as if he were no heavier than a doll and pressed him back up against the wall.  “Shhh,” he soothed Enjolras’ cries.  “Don’t worry, this is going to be so much fun.”

Enjolras felt him undo his belt and a moment later his jeans were pulled down.  “Please,” he begged and gave one final attempt to free himself.  It was useless.

“I know you want it,” he said as he grabbed Enjolras’ flaccid cock and began to stroke.  Enjolras let out an involuntary moan and Stephen grinned.  “See, I knew you like it.”

Stephen turned Enjolras around and pinned him to the wall whilst he unbuttoned his trousers.  He continued to stroke Enjolras’ cock and Enjolras knew it was over.  No matter how hard he fought he couldn’t stop this from happening.  The pain still took him by surprise as Stephen forced himself into Enjolras and he screamed loudly.  Stephen wrapped his hand over his mouth.

“Now, now, can’t have you drawing any attention,” he laughed maliciously as Enjolras sobbed.

Enjolras couldn’t believe this was happening.  He’d never had sex before and now he was being raped by a man he should have considered a friend.  Every time Stephen thrust inside him Enjolras felt a new pain ripping him apart.  He wanted to scream but couldn’t.  He wanted to push him away but he was pinned to the wall.  He could feel blood trickling down his head and down his legs as Stephen relentless pounded into him.  He just wanted to lay down and die.

Just as quickly as it had begun Stephen was climaxing.  He collapsed against Enjolras’ back breathing heavily.  It took him a moment to realise that Enjolras was hard.

“You can’t say you didn’t enjoy that,” he said.  “You’re hard.  Why don’t I take care of that for you?”  He reached around and stroked Enjolras’ hard cock until his hot seed spilled out on his hand.

As his orgasm hit he gagged, willing himself not to throw up and a fresh wave of shame washed over Enjolras.  Not only had he been raped but to Stephen it looked like he enjoyed it.  Stephen released his hand from Enjolras’ mouth and he collapsed in a heap on the cold, wet ground.

Stephen looked down at the man lying in front of him with a glint in his eye.  The man was truly perfect in every way; he was beautiful and passionate, strong and intelligent and, now, laying on the ground of the alleyway with the light drops of rain glistening in his hair he was even more perfect.  His lips were red and swollen from when he had kissed and bitten him; his shirt was torn revealing his perfectly toned body.  It didn’t matter that the perfectly toned body was marred with bruises or that blood was running down his head and legs or that he was quietly sobbing.  No, the man was perfect and nothing was ever going to change that.

He leaned down and ran his fingers through the man’s beautiful blonde curls.  He didn’t flinch, he didn’t have the energy anymore to fight, and he had put up such a good fight, so he just lay there and cried.

“Oh, mon ange,” he whispered softly in his ear.  “You belong to me now.”

Enjolras couldn’t move, he couldn’t speak and he couldn’t think.  Everywhere hurt.  He wanted to get up and run but he found that he couldn’t.  Physically he was injured and emotionally he was destroyed.  So he lay there in the rain and covered in blood praying silently for an end to the pain.

“Tell no-one of this,” Stephen said his parting words.  “If anyone finds out then I will kill them.  You don’t want the blood of your friends on your hands do you?”  He laughed.  He knew Enjolras too well.  Threatening his life meant nothing because he was willing to die for whatever he believed in but he would be more likely to stay quiet if one of his friends was threatened.  “It’ll be our little secret,” and with that he was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rape seemed like a lifetime ago once Enjolras found his way home. He had managed to bury his emotions as he limped around and now he just felt numb. He had managed to distance himself somewhat and now it felt like it had happened to someone else or, perhaps, a bad dream that he would soon forget. He stumbled into his flat and locked the door behind him. Using the last bit of energy he had he made his way into the bathroom and locked the door. It was only when he looked in the mirror that it hit him again.
> 
> He had been raped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the third chapter. Upping the angst big time now.

** Chapter Three **

Enjolras lay on the floor of the alley for what seemed like an eternity.  He just couldn’t bring himself to move.  He was in so much pain.  He couldn’t even think because his head hurt so much so he just lay there trying to get his breathing under control and calm down enough to figure out what to do next because he couldn’t just lie there forever.

Or could he?  It would be so easy just to lie there and allow himself to die.  It would certainly end the pain he was currently feeling; he would no longer have to endure it or the feeling of shame and humiliation that had settled on his body and mind.  The bruises would heal and fade but the feeling inside his gut would never disappear.  Stephen had destroyed him.

But still Enjolras did not want to die.  There was something buried deep inside him that was screaming for him to get up and go home.  He painfully stood up, pulled up his jeans and underwear and staggered hesitantly out of the alley, not knowing how long his legs would hold him up.

He walked in a daze, not paying attention to where he was going and was ignored by everyone on the street simply assuming that he was homeless.  They didn’t see the pain in his eyes or the humiliation etched on his face.  No, they only saw someone dirty and probably drunk.   They didn’t care about him so no-one offered their help.

The rape seemed like a lifetime ago once Enjolras found his way home.  He had managed to bury his emotions as he limped around and now he just felt numb.  He had managed to distance himself somewhat and now it felt like it had happened to someone else or, perhaps, a bad dream that he would soon forget.  He stumbled into his flat and locked the door behind him.  Using the last bit of energy he had he made his way into the bathroom and locked the door.  It was only when he looked in the mirror that it hit him again.

He had been raped.

It was in that second that a second wave of grief crashed over him and he fell to the floor.  He’d thought he had used up all his tears in the alley but he was wrong.  He could cry so much more and the pain would never go away.  This was his life now.  He was the man who had been raped and couldn’t tell anyone about it.  He had to live a lie.  Be a person he wasn’t in public so his friends could not see what he had become.  He was damaged.  He was destroyed.

Enjolras didn’t know how long he had been lying on the floor of the bathroom when he felt the sudden urge to shower but once he did he couldn’t get up fast enough.  He tore off his clothes and left them in a heap on the floor before turning on the shower and losing himself under the hot spray.  There was so much blood. Enjolras had never seen that much blood in his life.  Not even when he had been injured in a protest.  He looked down and took a quick note of his injuries.  He definitely had a concussion and his torso was bruised but he didn’t think any of his ribs were broken.  The worst of it came from between his legs.  He just needed to stop the bleeding there.  He could be all right if he could just get rid of all the blood.

He stared at the water and watched as it turned from red to a light pink and eventually it ran clear.  It was then he grabbed the soap and began washing himself.  It wasn’t enough.  He couldn’t wash out the shame.  He turned the shower up so it burned his skin and grabbed the nail brush so he could scrub himself clean.  He scrubbed until his skin was red and raw but it didn’t make any difference.  The shame was there and always would be.  He would never be clean again.

-x-

A restless night followed.  Enjolras was too scared to sleep and jumped at every little noise he heard from his neighbours moving around to a car backfiring.  He was terrified that Stephen would come to his home and hurt him again.  He sat in the middle of his bed all night curled into a tight ball with his arms wrapped around his knees and prayed for morning to arrive.

He must have fallen asleep at some point because he awoke to the sound of someone knocking on his door.  He panicked and threw the covers over his head, hoping that whoever it was would quickly give up and leave.  He wasn’t going to let anyone in.  It could be Stephen coming back to take him again.  He couldn’t risk it.  He would simply lie there and wait until he was alone again.

The person at the door had other ideas though.  They continued to bang so Enjolras continued to ignore them.

“Enjolras!”  He heard a voice call out.  He recognised it but his concussed brain couldn’t quite place it.  “Enj, are you in?  It’s me, Courfeyrac.  Are you going to answer, we have to be a the protest in a couple of hours and you haven’t checked in.”

Enjolras sighed in relief.  It was only Courfeyrac but he still wasn’t going to open the door.  He didn’t want his friend to see him like this because he would only ask questions and he couldn’t go to the protest because Stephen would be there and he really couldn’t face him.

“Go away,” he begged quietly from under the covers.  “Please just go away.”

Courfeyrac knocked a few more times before realising that no-one was going to answer before he gave up and left.  Enjolras breathed a huge sigh of relief and curled in on himself even tighter.

-x-

“Enjolras wasn’t answering,” Courfeyrac explained to Combeferre when they met up.  “He was there, I could hear him moving around but he wouldn’t answer.  I don’t know what’s wrong with him.”

“He seemed fine last night,” Combeferre replied.  “Maybe he’s just ill and doesn’t want anyone to know about it.”

“Even when he is ill he still tries to attend meetings and rallies.  He pretends that there is nothing wrong.  There is something wrong because he was just ignoring me.”

Stephen listened to the two men speaking intently and smiled.  They didn’t know that he was the cause of Enjolras’ absence and it pleased him greatly to know something they didn’t.  Maybe he would pay a visit to the beautiful blonde tonight and pick up where they had left off.

“What should we do then?”  Courfeyrac asked.  “Do we continue with the rally or not?  It doesn’t seem right doing this without Enjolras.”

“Maybe it would be for the best,” Combeferre agreed before he was interrupted by Stephen.

“No, we should go ahead,” he insisted.  “Enjolras wouldn’t want us to stop in his absence.  The cause is bigger than any one of us.  He would want us to go ahead and show everyone that we mean business.”

The others agreed with them and Combeferre and Courfeyrac reluctantly conceded.  “All right,” Combeferre said.  “But as soon as this is over I’m going over to Enjolras’ to find out what’s wrong.”

-x-

Stephen was riding high on adrenaline from the success of the rally.  It had gone so well and everyone was in high spirits.  They had headed straight to a bar afterwards to celebrate and now almost everyone was on their way to complete inebriation.  Courfeyrac had mostly forgotten his earlier worries about his friend and was no flirting with some random blonde at the bar.  Only Combeferre sat there, sober and pensive.  Stephen sat down next to him.

“Is everything okay?”

“I’m just worried about Enjolras,” he explained.  “I’ve tried calling him all day but he isn’t answering his phone.  I think I’m going to head over there and see how he is,” he stood up and grabbed his jacket.

“You don’t need to do that.  If he’s ill then he isn’t going to want to talk to anyone.  Maybe it would just be best to leave him alone.”

“No, I really should.  It’s really not like him to miss something like this.”

“Well, give him all our best if you see him.”

“I’ll let you know how I get on,” Combeferre said before leaving.

-x-

Enjolras had barely moved all day, only getting up from the bed when the need to use the toilet became too strong.  He told himself it was because it hurt too much to move but the truth was he just didn’t have the will to.  So he just lay there feeling numb most of the time but every so often a fresh wave of panic washed over him and he would silently cry into the pillow.

He had never felt so alone in all his life.  There was no-one that could help him and no-one to understand what he was going through.  He couldn’t tell anyone what had happened out of fear that Stephen would seek some sort of retribution against him for it.  But more than that, he didn’t want anyone to know his shame.  He didn’t want them to know that he had been too weak to fight him off and even worse that his body had responded to Stephen’s ministrations and he had orgasmed.  They would only laugh at him for over-reacting like this it was better that they never found out.  He just needed a couple of days to recover and then he could go back to his life and pretend that this had never happened.

No matter how much he deluded himself, though, he knew that he couldn’t go back.  He was never going to be the same person as he was before.  He jumped at every noise, he couldn’t be in a large crowd and the thought of picking himself up and starting again felt like a torment.  He felt as though he would never laugh or smile again.  When he saw his friends they would ask him about his mood and he wouldn’t be able to tell the reason why he didn’t want to talk or for them to even touch him.  It would simply be easier if he just wasn’t there anymore.

Enjolras had never been a person to contemplate suicide.  He had a strong personality by nature that made him want to fight rather than give up but the despair inside him was so deep that he didn’t think he would ever be able to find himself out of this hole.  It was dark and endless and he now realised how Grantaire often felt when he was using the alcohol to hide his depression.  He had often chided him for being weak, just a useless alcoholic who couldn’t control himself.  Now he knew why Grantaire couldn’t control himself.

A knock on the door brought Enjolras out of his thoughts and he felt himself cry out.  He didn’t want anyone to be there, he wanted to be alone.  A voice called out his name.  It was Combeferre.  Damn it, he thought, there was no way he could get out of this by simply ignoring his friend.  Slowly he climbed off the bed and stumbled across his flat to the front door.

“Enjolras, are you in there?”  Combeferre said through the door, banging loudly.  He was beginning to feel extremely worried for his friend.  He was about ten seconds away from using his spare key when he heard the lock turn on the door and a second later it opened.  Combeferre started to breathe a sigh of relief to know that Enjolras was at least alive but it caught in his throat and his face fell into a look of complete shock when the door opened fully and he caught his first glimpse of Enjolras in nearly twenty four hours.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Enjolras looked terrible, Combeferre immediately noticed. He had a cut on his head and a large bruise covered most of his face. He held himself gingerly, his arms wrapped around his ribs as they were obviously causing him pain. It was the eyes that scared Combeferre the most. They were dull and lifeless; red rimmed from the obvious crying. All of the spark that made Enjolras who he was had gone and had left behind an empty shell instead. Something was very, very wrong.

“Oh my god Enjolras, what happened?”  Combeferre asked, unable to keep the alarm out of his voice. He wanted nothing more than to take his friend in his arms and hold him tight but he felt that would do more harm than good.

“You mean to my face?” Combeferre nodded. “It’s from when my head collided against a wall when some bastard mugged me last night,” he tried to keep his voice light to make it look like wasn’t bothered by it but he didn’t think it was working. “It looks pretty bad doesn’t it? I didn’t want anyone to see me like this.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Combeferre asked not able to conceal the worry from his voice. He pushed the door open further and walked into Enjolras’ flat. “Are you all right? Do you want me to take a look at your head?”

He didn’t notice the way Enjolras moved away from his touch. “I’m fine, it just hurts. It’s nothing really. I just need a few days to stop looking like a giant bruise and get over the shock. I didn’t want anyone to see me like this.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m more embarrassed than anything. Wasn’t expecting anyone to jump me.”

“As long as you’re okay,” Enjolras nodded and shifted slightly. “You don’t want me to stay?”

“I’ll be fine,” Enjolras insisted. “I’m just going to spend the rest of the weekend licking my wounds and I’ll be back to normal next week. Just give me a bit of time.”

“Okay, if you’re sure,” Combeferre said as he headed to the door. “But give me a call if you need anything.”

“I will do,” Enjolras said and as Combeferre left he couldn’t help but feel that Enjolras had not been completely truthful about what he had said.

-x-

“He said he was all right but I don’t believe it,” Combeferre told Courfeyrac the next morning. He had gone round his friend’s as early as he could and despite Courfeyrac complaining about his massive hangover he listened to what Combeferre had to say.

“Are you sure, Ferre?” Courfeyrac replied and took a sip of his coffee. “Enjolras isn’t really the type of person to lie like that.”

“You didn’t see him. He looked a mess.”

“I would too if I’d been mugged.”

“It wasn’t just the bruises. I looked into his eyes and there was nothing there. They looked completely lifeless. He looked completely lifeless.”

Courfeyrac sighed. He knew deep down that Combeferre was right to be so worried. This didn’t sound like Enjolras at all. “What do you think happened then? It must be bad if he was like that.”

“I don’t know but I think it must be something awful. He doesn’t want to talk about it though so I can’t push him to. He’ll just clam up even more.”

“Then what do we do?”

“I don’t know.”

-x-

Enjolras stared at the text message he had just received unable to believe that he was currently reading it. Hello my perfect angel, it read:

_Will you be at the meeting today? Stephen x._

It made his stomach turn just to think about it. How could he send such a message after what he had done? Enjolras threw his phone on the floor and ran into the bathroom to throw up. Once he emptied his stomach of the small amount of food he had managed to consume he collapsed to the floor. He felt exhausted. He had barely slept since the attack and the few hours he had managed had been disturbed with nightmares. He just didn’t have the energy anymore.

And yet he couldn’t stay there forever. He would have to get up and go out at some point, he just was not ready yet. He couldn’t face the world. He couldn’t face his friends. The pain was still too fresh and raw so he curled up on the bathroom floor and just lay there begging for the silence to claim him so he could finally relax.

A bang on the door brought him back to reality and he reluctantly got up to see who it was. Expecting Combeferre or at the very least Courfeyrac. He was shocked to see Stephen standing on the other side of the door. He moved to slam the door shut but Stephen got there first, pushing it open and forcing his way inside. He shoved Enjolras against the wall.

“Just came to see how you were, love.”

“Leave me alone,” Enjolras hissed.

“You’ve been very good, not telling anyone about our little night. I was disappointed you didn’t turn up for the rally though. I would have liked you to see my stunning achievement. It was such a good day, everybody loved it. They were all upset you didn’t show but I don’t think they missed you.”

“Please just go,” Enjolras cried. “Just leave me alone.”

“But I cannot, you simply have me far too captivated,” he replied and kissed Enjolras’ neck. “It is so easy to fall in love with someone as perfect as you.”

“NO!” Enjolras yelled and shoved Stephen away, feeling a level of strength he had not felt since the attack. “Stay away from me,” he said before running to the kitchen. He grabbed a knife from the counter top and waved it in front of Stephen. Stephen just grinned.

“Okay, I’ll leave you for now. We’ll come back to this later."

“Speak to me again and I’ll kill you,” Enjolras replied, his voice not sounding as forceful as he wanted it to. Stephen simply smirked and left. He knew that he had won.

After he had gone Enjolras locked the door once more and collapsed to the floor unable to breathe properly. There was no way he was going to let anyone into his flat again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. Next chapter is up a little earlier as I'm at work tonight.
> 
> Another warning for rape in this chapter, also self harm.
> 
> To the person who asked, yes Grantaire does appear :D. He's going to have a bigger role later on.
> 
> 'Til tomorrow

** Chapter Five **

Several weeks had passed and Enjolras had not returned to leading the meetings as was expected.  In fact, most of them had not even seen him save for Combeferre who refused to take his absence lightly and went over to his flat at every opportunity.  Despite his best efforts, however, he had not managed to get Enjolras to tell him what was wrong.

What he could see was that Enjolras was fading.  Every time he went around Enjolras seemed more and more haunted.  He barely spoke and Combeferre could clearly see that he was not eating properly.  He was like a ghost of his former self; there was no longer any spark, no fire in his heart.  He was dying and Combeferre didn’t know how to make it better.

Stephen had easily stepped up as interim leader.  With Enjolras gone and Comberferre and Courfeyrac preoccupied he had slipped into the role unquestioned.  His ideas were strong and he had a way with words, allowing more new members to join but that left Combeferre cold.  He was more worried about Enjolras and the potential effect losing his leadership would do to his health if he found out what was happening.

They had a protest planned for the weekend but Combeferre was too pre-occupied about Enjolras.  He was sitting at the table not really paying attention to what Stephen was saying and didn’t immediately notice somebody sit beside him.  When he did look up he was shocked to see an unusually sober Grantaire sitting there.

“You shocked me,” he said.

“Sorry,” he grinned wryly.  “I just wanted to see if you knew how our great leader was.”

“I don’t think he’s our great leader anymore,” Combeferre replied, nodding over to Stephen.  “He seems to fit the role better right now.”

“Yeah but he’s just pretending at it, he doesn’t have the charisma or charm of our dear Enjolras.”

“You talk more sense when you’re drunk.”

“Maybe but it doesn’t stop me from thinking there’s something off about the guy.  He really isn’t sitting right with me.”

“I know what you mean,” Combeferre said with a frown on his face.  “There’s something about him that I don’t really like.”

“He’s a massive pervert,” Grantaire said bluntly.  “The way he acts around his new little band of followers who hang on his every word.”

“The same could be said about you and Enjolras.”

Grantaire grinned wryly once more.  “Maybe so but I worship him from afar.  He doesn’t notice me except to call me out on being drunk.  I certainly wouldn’t take advantage of him like Stephen does with his groupies.”

Combeferre sighed.  “Enjolras isn’t doing good,” he told Grantaire.  “He isn’t eating or sleeping and there is something that he won’t talk about and I don’t know what to do.  I’m running out of ideas and it’s scaring me.”

Grantaire frowned.  This was not what he was expecting to hear.  He’d expected Combeferre to tell him that Enjolras had a bee in his bonnet of Stephen being so popular but this sounded so much more serious.  Something was really wrong with him.  “Maybe I could talk to him.”

“He wouldn’t let you in.  He only lets me in because I keep threatening to use the spare key.  He really freaked out when I told him that.  I’ve tried to make him see that we’re here for him and we won’t judge him but he won’t listen.  He’s broken and I don’t think I can fix him.”

Neither man realised that Stephen had heard every word that they had said with a smirk on his face.  _Good,_ he thought.  _Maybe I should pay Enjolras another visit._

-x-

“Enjolras,” he tauntingly whispered at the door.  “Open the door.  There’ll be consequences if you don’t.  You wouldn’t want me hurting one of your friends, would you?”  A moment later the door opened and Stephen smiled.  Enjolras was terrified of anything happening to a friend.  Stephen entered the flat and saw Enjolras standing there submissively, as if he had resigned himself to what was going to happen next.

Stephen had expected him to fight back but taking one look at the other man he realised that he didn’t have the strength.  He had faded so much since the last time he had seen him that Stephen knew this would be easy.

“Come with me,” he said and took a hold of Enjolras’ hand.  He pulled him towards the bedroom.  He shoved him down onto the bed, marvelling at the submissiveness of the other man and began to remove his clothes.  “I knew you enjoyed this.”

Enjolras closed his eyes and prayed for the tears not to come.  He knew he was weak but he didn’t want Stephen to see him cry.  “Just do what you want and leave,” he whispered with no fight in his voice at all.  “I can’t take this anymore.”

He didn’t move at all whilst Stephen raped him this time.  There was nothing he could do.  He had been beaten and humiliated and now there was nothing left to do but lie there and let his body be used.  He barely even noticed the trickle of blood down his thighs this time or the pain as Stephen forced himself into Enjolras again and again.  He could think of nothing other than death and its sweet release.

“That was perfect,” Stephen said as he pulled out of Enjolras and dressed himself.  “You were perfect.  I look forward to next time.  Just remember, though, don’t tell anyone.  This is our little secret and you’ll ruin it by letting someone know.  They’ll think you’re a worthless whore.  Bye sweet,” he whispered and leaned down to kiss Enjolras on the lips before leaving.

After he had left Enjolras started crying.  He had managed to hold it in but now he was alone he felt the despair pouring out of him.  He couldn’t take this anymore.  He didn’t want to live in fear of the next rape.  He didn’t want to hide from his friends.  He wanted the nightmares to stop and for it all to just go away.  He needed it all to just go away.

He turned his head and stared blankly for a moment before he noticed the water glass on the bedside table.  His brain formulated a plan and he grabbed it before shattering it against the table.  He picked up one of the shards and began carving into his arm.

-x-

“I am going to get Enjolras to talk whether he wants to or not,” Combeferre announced to Courfeyrac as they headed over to their friend’s flat.  “There is something seriously wrong and we can’t help him until we know what it is.”

“But he doesn’t want to talk,” Courfeyrac protested.  “We can’t force him to, he’ll just shut us out even more.”

“I don’t care.  I can’t just sit around and watch him slowly die.  He needs to talk and he needs to heal and we can’t help him until we know exactly what we’re dealing with.”

Courfeyrac sighed, he knew that Combeferre was right but he also knew that Enjolras was not going to be happy about this.  “He’ll play hell with you.”

“Good,” Combeferre responded.  “Maybe then he’ll show that he still has some fight left in him.”  Courfeyrac couldn’t argue with that.

They pulled up outside Enjolras’ building and headed outside.  Once they arrived at his flat Combeferre started pounding at the door.  “Enjolras?  Enjolras open up!”  There was no response.  “Come on, Enj, we know you’re in there don’t make me use the spare key.”  There was still no response which unnerved Combeferre greatly.  Usually the threat of the spare key was enough to make Enjolras open the door and let him in.  Not tonight, though.

He reached into his wallet and pulled the spare key out, not wanting Courfeyrac to see his panic.  He quickly opened the door and they headed inside.  There was no sign of Enjolras in the living area.

“He must be in the bedroom,” Courfeyrac said softly.  Combeferre nodded in agreement and they headed to the door, pushing it open slightly and gasping in horror at what they saw.

The sheets were covered in blood coming from a wound on Enjolras’ arm.  Their dear friend was lying in the middle of the bed looking paler than he had ever done before.  He was unconscious.  Combeferre rushed over to his friend.

“Call an ambulance,” he instructed Courfeyrac and he grabbed one of Enjolras’ shirts to try to stop the bleeding on his arm.  It was only when he checked over Enjolras’ body for any other injuries that he noticed the blood between his legs.  His cry drew Courfeyrac over who immediately heaved once he saw.

“Oh my god,” Courfeyrac cried.

“We need to pull together, we can’t let him see us like this.  We need to be strong,” Combeferre insisted.  “Where’s the damned ambulance?”  His calmness was slipping rapidly away.  He pulled the blood soaked shirt away from Enjolras’ arm to check if it was still bleeding.  After viewing the aftermath of Enjolras’ rape Combeferre had been certain that nothing could shock him more.  He was wrong.

On his arm Enjolras had carved two words.

_Not Perfect._


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Combeferre and Courfeyrac sat silently side by side each other in the waiting room. It had been hours since they had been ushered in there and no-one had spoken to them since. They did not even know if their friend was alive or dead.

“How much longer are we going to have to wait?” Courfeyrac asked impatiently. He was beginning to feel antsy and he wanted answers. “I just want to know how Enjolras is.”

“We're not family,” Combeferre replied. “They don’t have to tell us anything.” Combeferre felt lost and heartbroken. He didn’t know what to do, not really. Put him in an emergency situation and he would have been in his element, dealing with everything calmly and methodically but there was no way he could be like that right now. He wanted to scream. He wanted to yell at someone until they told him what was going on. He wanted to see Enjolras and know that his friend was going to be physically all right. But he knew that even if Enjolras was to survive then mentally and emotionally he was never going to be the same again. He never would have guessed that rape had been the reason for Enjolras’ sudden shift in mood. It was so much worse than he ever could have thought.

“How bad is it?” Courfeyrac asked in a small voice, his anger and impatience suddenly turning to sadness. “You must have seen it before, how bad is it?”

“I don’t know,” Combeferre admitted. “It’s different for everyone and I’ve never seen it with a man before so I don’t even know what to physically expect. All I know is that we need to be there for him.”

“I want to kill whoever did this.”

“That wouldn’t solve anything,” Combeferre replied calmly even though he was thinking the exact same thing.

“I know,” Courfeyrac said. “But they hurt Enjolras and I want to make them suffer for that alone. He’s been going through hell these last few weeks and he couldn’t even tell us about it. We’re his best friends and he said nothing. He must have been so scared.” Courfeyrac felt a fresh tear slip down his cheek and he wiped it away with his shirt sleeve.

“He had his reasons for not saying anything. I don’t know what they are but they are his. When we do see him you need to hold it together. It’s not going to help if you start crying. He’ll think he’s done something wrong.”

“I know. Do we tell the others?” He asked, feeling guilty that he hadn’t thought about them before. “They’re just as concerned as us about Enjolras.”

“I don’t know,” Combeferre told him. “I hadn’t even thought about it,” he said echoing Courfeyrac’s thought. “I suppose they will have to know eventually but I don’t want to tell them unless Enjolras wants us too.”

Courfeyrac opened his mouth to respond when they were interrupted by a doctor. She smiled gently at Combeferre and they both stood up to greet her. “How is he?” Combeferre asked.

“He’s awake,” she told them. “And he wants to see you both. We’re moving him to a room now and when he’s settled someone will come and take you up.”

“Thank you,” Combeferre said and sat back down. He rested his head in his hands and breathed deeply.

“Are you okay?” Courfeyrac asked, his voice filled with concern.

“Yeah, just feeling a bit overwhelmed.”

“You can’t be overwhelmed,” Courfeyrac said as he sat next to his friend and wrapped his arms around him. “You have to be the calm one. I’m supposed to be the overwhelmed one.” Combeferre managed a smile. “You’re the one who has to say it’s going to be all right.”

“That’s the problem, it’s not.”

-x-

Enjolras felt light headed. He knew it was from the drugs they had given him to calm him down when he started panicking in the emergency room but it still felt very strange. He had no energy. All he could manage was to stare blankly at the crisp white sheets on the bed and try to come up with an explanation for Combeferre and Courfeyrac. None came though. He knew they had seen everything and he wasn’t going to be able to lie his way out of telling them this time.

His stomach turned at the thought. He wanted to see them but he didn’t want to see the pity in their eyes. They were going to hate him. They were going to think he was weak. He completely understood, he hated himself. He wished they had never found him and he’d been allowed to die. He wondered about the change in him that had come about since the rape. He was quiet whereas once upon a time he had been vocal. He was timid where once he had been unafraid. He didn’t recognise the man he had once been, he was a stranger and he couldn’t now imagine ever having been that person. This new Enjolras was a stranger too. When he looked in the mirror he did not see himself staring back. He stared down at his bandaged arm. It was always going to be there. The scars were going to be a constant reminder of his shame. Every time he looked at it he would remember his weakness. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream and shout at the world but he just did not have the energy. So he lay in bed and waited for his friends.

He heard the door open and he closed his eyes. His heart started racing and he tried to breathe deeply to steady himself. He felt his friends beside him and he suddenly felt oddly calm. Opening his eyes, Enjolras gazed up to the worried faces of his friends and in that moment the floodgates opened and he couldn’t stop himself from letting out a loud sob. Combeferre was immediately by his side, wrapping his arms around Enjolras’ far too thin frame and whispering hushed words of comfort into his ear. For weeks Enjolras hadn’t wanted to be touched, he flinched at every attempt at contact but now he wanted it so badly. He wanted Combeferre to hold him forever and tell him it was going to be okay. He felt the other side of the bed sink down and a moment later Courfeyrac was holding him too. He never wanted the moment to end. It had to though and after a while he pulled away from his friends.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice hoarse from the crying. “I’m so sorry.”

“What have you got to be sorry about?” Combeferre’s calm voice soothed him. “This is not your fault.”

“I felt so ashamed,” Enjolras weeped. “I felt so weak and pathetic.”

“You shouldn’t feel ashamed. This wasn’t your choice. This was done to you.” “He told me that if I told anyone then he would hurt them. I didn’t want him to hurt you. He kept calling me perfect, he said I was his angel and I couldn’t fight back. Not the first time when he slammed my head into a wall and not the second time when I just didn’t have the strength to fight back. I just wanted it all to stop. I just wanted it to be over. I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”

“Enjolras, sweetheart,” Courfeyrac spoke for the first time since he had entered the room. His voice was quiet and filled with sadness, “you don’t need to feel ashamed. Ferre’s right, this isn’t your fault. It’s the evil son of a bitch who did this to you who’s at fault and he should pay for this.”

“Did the hospital call the police?” Combeferre asked, wondering what had happened in the hours they had been sat waiting for news.

Enjolras nodded. “They came and took DNA samples but they didn’t seem overly concerned. I still a bit out of it but they seemed to have the impression that men can’t be raped. At least the doctor was kind.” Combeferre felt a sudden surge of anger when he heard Enjolras’ words. He knew that they weren’t going to really bother with Enjolras’ case because they were under the misguided impression that it wasn’t rape. He didn’t trust himself to speak any more so he took Enjolras’ hand in his and squeezed it gently.

Enjolras seemed to have retreated back into himself and began to whisper softly. “How can someone who’s supposed to be your friend do that?” He asked himself, not seeming to realise that Combeferre and Courfeyrac were in the room. “Everyone likes him and I tried to be friendly, how could he do that?”

“Enjolras,” Courfeyrac tried to gently coax his friend back. “Are you there?” Enjolras gazed up at his friend with fresh tears in his eyes. “Sweetheart, who did this to you?” Courfeyrac asked. “You said he was a friend. Did one of us do this?” There was a level of alarm in his voice that panicked Enjolras.

“No, not one of us,” he cried. “You would never do it. It was him. The new one,” he immediately slammed his mouth shut as if he thought he had just said something wrong.

“Stephen did this to you?” Combeferre asked. Enjolras didn’t say anything but he nodded in confirmation. “Enjolras, you’re going to have to tell us everything.”

“It was the night before the gay marriage rally. You had just gone and I was packing things away. Stephen same back in, he said that he’d forgotten his bag and we talked for a bit. I felt a little bad because I hadn’t been that friendly to him and you’d teased me about being jealous so I thought I’d try and make an effort. We were talking and he said that I was an inspiration to him and he wanted to be just like me and then he kissed me. “I pushed him away and told him I wasn’t interested but he wouldn’t stop,” tears fell down his cheeks. “He pushed me onto a table and he ripped my shirt. I managed to push him off and I ran but he followed. He cornered me in this alley. I tried to fight back, I punched him in the face but he smashed my face into the wall and I couldn’t do anything after that. Then he raped me,” he added, not wanting to go into any more detail.

Courfeyrac gasped but Combeferre just sat in stony silence. He had never hated a person so much in all his life. He had dismissed Courfeyrac when he had said he wanted to kill whoever had done this but now he wanted nothing more than to do the same.

“Then he came back tonight and I just didn’t have the strength to fight him. I just feel so tired and I couldn’t stop him. He wanted me and he took me. What do I do now?” Enjolras asked quietly. He sounded like a lost child.

“You need to concentrate on getting better,” Combeferre said.

“How do I do that?”

“I don’t know,” his friend admitted. “But we will be here every single step. We all will.”

“Do the others know?”

“No, we didn’t know if you wanted us to tell them,” Courfeyrac spoke. “Do you want us to tell them?”

“They’ll find out eventually,” Enjolras sighed. “There’s no way I can hide this from them and by the looks on your faces you won’t be able to either. Just tell them before I'm discharged because I can’t go through this again.”

“Of course,” Combeferre acknowledged.

“Can we stop now? I feel tired. I think I want to sleep.”

“We’ll let you rest, we’ll be back in the morning.”

“Thanks guys,” Enjolras managed to smile. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“We’ll always be here for you,” Courfeyrac said has he leaned down and kissed Enjolras gently on the cheek.

They sat with him until his eyes closed and his breathing evened out. Then they left.

“What are we going to do?” Courfeyrac asked as they walked out of the hospital. Combeferre looked at him with a look in his eyes that scared Courfeyrac.

“I’m going to kill him,” he replied and stormed out of the hospital.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Stephen didn’t know what had hit him. One moment he had been standing in the café, laughing and joking with someone and then the next he had been struck hard in the face. He hadn’t even immediately seen who had done it. All he knew was that one moment he was on his feet and the next he was on his back clutching his cheek. He looked up and saw Combeferre with an expression on his face that could only be described as pure rage.

“Get out of here,” he said in a disturbingly quiet tone of voice. “Get out of here and never come back.”

Stephen scrambled to his feet. He took a moment to stare at Combeferre as if to challenge him but when he realised that this man was not to be messed with he quickly backed down. “This isn’t over,” he said.

“You’re right it isn’t,” Combeferre snarled. “But I have more important things to deal with at the moment and you’re not one of them so get out before I kill you,” Combeferre’s voice was hard and cold and full of hatred. No-one had ever seen him that angry before and it scared the hell out of everyone. Stephen quickly retreated and hurried out of the café.

“What was that all about?” Combeferre heard someone ask. He turned and saw it was Grantaire. The others were all staring at him in shock. Combeferre sighed and his face immediately softened as he prepared to tell his friends what was going on.

“There’s something we need to tell you about him and Enjolras.”

By the time Combeferre and Courfeyrac had finished recounting Enjolras’ story everyone was staring at them in horror. They had heard a few gasps and even a few mutterings about what they wanted to do to Stephen. Jehan had left the room to throw up at one point he had been so horrified.

“What do we do now?” Jehan asked in a timid voice.

Combeferre replied, “We need to be there for Enjolras and that’s the most important thing. I know what we all want to do to that bastard, believe me I’ve conjured about a thousand things in my head, but it’s not going to do any good. It’s not going to help Enjolras. We need to stick together because he’s going to need all the support he can get.”

“How could he do such a thing? Poor Enjolras.” Whilst Combeferre and Courfeyrac spoke to the rest and tried to comfort their distress Grantaire just sat there and seethed. He had known there had been something off with Stephen but he never imagined it had been that bad. He wanted nothing more than to find him and hurt him for doing harm to Enjolras. Grantaire was well aware that Enjolras disapproved of his drinking and quickly grew tired of his drunken arguing but Grantaire greatly admired the man. He worshipped him from afar and he would do anything for him, even die. It hardened his resolve to do something even further.

No-one noticed that he had left the café. No-one paid attention to him as he stalked silently down the dark streets looking for Stephen. No-one even glanced at him when he found the man he hated so much and watched him intently as he complained loudly to his little bunch of groupies about how Combeferre was insane and it made Grantaire’s blood boil. He wanted to hurt the man so much.

It was about an hour before they all dispersed and Stephen was left alone. He left the pub he had been frequenting and did not notice that Grantaire was following him. Once he was sure that they were alone and no-one was watching; Grantaire grabbed him and shoved him down an alley.

“How do you feel now, big man?” He snarled at Stephen, his face so close he could feel the other man’s breath on his cheek. “Are you feeling tough? How about I smash your head off the wall, let’s see how that makes you feel.”

“What are you talking about?” Stephen asked, his voice shaking.

“I think we both know what I’m talking about. How could you do it? Huh? He’s a good man and you violated him. You hurt him and raped him and I am not going to let you get away with that.”

Stephen smirked at Grantaire. “Oh that,” he said, his voice nonchalant. “He wanted it just as much as I did. He even moaned as he came.” Grantaire couldn’t bear to look at the smug look on Stephen’s face any longer. He pulled his arm back and smacked him hard in the stomach. Stephen folded in on himself struggling for breath.

“Forcing yourself on someone does not make it consensual. He did not want it but you knew that, didn’t you? You just took him anyway. You disgust me,” he yelled and kicked him hard in the gut. “He was an innocent. One of the few people in this world not to be screwed over by sex and you had to destroy that, didn’t you? You had to damage him.”

“Listen to yourself,” Stephen snarled. “Acting like the love sick puppy you are. He’s never going to love you back you know. He’s never going to want you. You’re going to spend your life devoted to him and he will never even notice you. You’re just a pathetic drunk.”

“Maybe so,” Grantaire said, kicking him in the gut again. “But at least I’m not a rapist.” He bent down and grabbed Stephen by the hair. “Tell anyone about this and I’ll hurt someone you love. Isn’t that what you said to him? You can’t because we’re stronger than you. Hurt one of us and we’ll strike back twice as hard. Now I’m telling you the same. The cops might not give a damn about what you did but I do and if I see you around again I will kill you.” Grantaire stood up. “That was your only warning,” he said with finality and turned and walked away.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, here's chapter eight, posted as my friend attacks my brother for saying he looks like a badger (a bit of pointless information there).

**Chapter Eight**

Enjolras couldn’t face going back to his flat. Even when the doctor agreed to release him his heart filled with fear at the thought of having to go back there. He had been raped in his bed. He had been attacked in a place that was meant to be a sanctuary and now he no longer felt safe there. He would never feel safe there again. He picked nervously at the bandage on his arm as he heard Combeferre discuss his discharge with the doctor.

“Come on,” he eventually heard his friend talk to him. “I’m taking you home.”

“I don’t want to go back there,” Enjolras whispered. “I can’t go back there.”

“Then you can stay with me,” Combeferre replied and Enjolras breathed a sigh of relief. It felt like at least one burden had been lifted from his shoulders.

“Thank you.” “I was never going to let you go back there, Enj,” Combeferre said trying to hold his emotions in as he saw Enjolras flinch at the sound of his long used nickname.

“Can you not call me Enj anymore, please?” He begged. “He called me ange.” Combeferre sighed, feeling a huge amount of sorrow for Enjolras. Just one more thing that scumbag had ruined. At least they hadn’t heard anything of him since Combeferre had kicked him out of the café. He had gone round to Stephen’s flat to confront him but he had found the flat empty and stripped bare.

“Ok, Enjolras, I’ll never call you it again,” he promised and he saw Enjolras visibly relax. “Just give Courfeyrac a week and he’ll have a new nickname for you.”

“I dread to think what it’ll be,” Enjolras replied and for a moment he almost forgot for a moment what had happened. It felt like a release. But that moment quickly ended and the despair came flooding back. “Will I ever feel normal again?” He asked sadly. “I hate feeling this way.”

“I don’t know,” Combeferre answered honestly. “I think it’s something you have to work out for yourself.”

“That’s the hard part.”

“Come on, let’s get you home. We can talk about it more there.”

-x-

Enjolras sat on the bed of his new home and stared at the bandage on his arm. He hadn’t seen what it looked like since he had been admitted into the hospital but there was a small voice in the back of his head calling to him telling him to take the bandage off and see what had become of his arm. He picked at the tape holding the bandage on his arm and tore it. The bandage released and fell down his arm revealing a raw and red scar. He ran his fingers down the words, strangely not feeling any pain. It was as if it wasn’t his arm and he was just a passing spectator to its horror.

The doctor had referred him to a therapist to discuss the rape but he didn’t know what to say. Their first meeting had been awkward with Enjolras reluctant to discuss what had happened. Opening up to Combeferre and Courfeyrac, his best friends, was one thing but a complete stranger was completely different. He felt uncomfortable speaking to the stranger and had completely clammed up. He had an appointment for the following day and he wasn’t looking forward to it.

“Do you want anything to eat?” Combeferre asked as he poked his head around the door and saw Enjolras staring at his arm.

“It looks strange doesn’t it?” Enjolras said, not really paying attention, focusing slowly on his arm. “It doesn’t feel like it’s my arm. It’s like it’s someone else’s and I’m just staring at it. I can’t even really remember doing it.”

“How does it physically feel?” Combeferre asked, sitting on the bed next to Enjolras, the doctor in him taking over.

“It aches but not too much. It itches a lot.”

“Good, that means it’s healing.”

“It’s always going to be there. A constant reminder of what happened.” Combeferre didn’t know what to say. He felt as lost as Enjolras but in a different way. He didn’t know how he could help his friend. He often went into doctor mode because it was easier to look after Enjolras that way.

“What time’s your appointment tomorrow?”

“Three.”

“Do you want me to take you?” Enjolras nodded. “Do you want something to eat?”

“A little, I’m not really hungry.” Combeferre smiled sadly and drew Enjolras into his arms. Enjolras started crying softly and buried his head in Combeferre’s shoulder.

“I wish I could take this all away,” Combeferre said. “I wish I could make it better.”

“I know,” Enjolras whispered. “I wish you could too."

-x-

The latest appointment with the therapist hadn’t gone well. Enjolras was still reluctant to talk to a stranger and had spent most of the hour sitting in silence only occasionally answering his questions. As soon as he had returned home he had shut himself in his bedroom and hadn’t emerged. That had been hours ago and now Combeferre was feeling worried. He was distracted by a knock on the door. He opened it and saw Grantaire on the other side. Combeferre hadn’t seen him since he had told everyone about Enjolras’ attack and was a little surprised to see him on the doorstep.

“I was just wondering if I could talk to Enjolras,” he said and Combeferre opened the door to him.

“You can talk but there’s no guarantee he’ll listen. I’ll leave you two alone for a bit but don’t be surprised if he doesn’t want to talk.” Grantaire nodded in understanding and knocked gently on the bedroom door. “Enjolras, it’s me Grantaire. Do you mind if I come in?” He asked and a moment later the door opened. He stepped inside and was shocked by Enjolras’ appearance.

He looked unkempt. His hair was a mess and he was now sporting a beard. He had lost a lot of weight and his clothes were hanging off his painfully thin frame. It made Grantaire regret that he hadn’t killed that scumbag when he’d had the chance.

“Hey,” he greeted softly and Enjolras tried to smile.

“Sorry, it hasn’t been a good day.”

“It doesn’t look like it,” Grantaire said as he sat down on the bed. Enjolras followed suit. “I think it’s the first time your hair as ever looked worse than mine.” Enjolras laughed but it was hollow.

He ran his hand through his hair, “It just didn’t seem important.”

“I know what that feels like.”

“’Aire?” Enjolras asked.

“Yeah?”

“How do you cope?”

“What do you mean?”

“With everything?”

“I drink.”

“Oh.”

“Why are you asking?”

“Because I don’t know how to cope with this.”

“I don’t think there’s any set way of dealing with something like this. Everyone is different.”

“I wish there was. I just want it to go away. I want to stop thinking about this every single minute of every single day.” Grantaire sighed and took Enjolras’ hand in his. He pulled his hand to his mouth and placed a gentle kiss on his knuckles.

“I don’t know what it going to happen but you are not alone in this. We are all here for you.”

“I know and I appreciate it, I really do but you can’t make me feel better.”

“Isn’t that what the therapist is for?”

“I don’t know what to say and I end up just sitting there looking like an idiot. He must think I’m stupid.”

“No, he probably thinks that you are hurting but you need to talk to him. Just start saying words and maybe it’ll start getting easier to open up.”

“Do you think that would help?”

“I don’t know but it’s worth a try, isn’t it?  Enjolras nodded.

“Anything’s worth a try.” Enjolras rested his head on Grantaire’s shoulder and closed his eyes. Grantaire stroked his hand gently.

“Are you hungry?” He asked his friend.

“I never really feel hungry anymore. Why do you ask?”

“I was just thinking that maybe we should call Ferre and ask him to pick up some pizzas on his way back. Then we should call everyone over and spend the night watching stupid films.” Enjolras opened his mouth to speak to immediately say no but he stopped himself. The idea didn’t sound bad. In fact it sounded like a very good idea.

“I’d like that,” he eventually said with a small smile on his face. “I haven’t seen everyone in so long.”

“I know they’re all anxious to see you again. They’ve been worried about you.”

“I miss them,” Enjolras admitted. “I never realised that before.”

“Okay then, you call Combeferre and tell him to get pizza, I’ll send a mass text to everyone telling them to come over and then we’ll pick out some movies.” They both stood up and grabbed their phones. Grantaire watched Enjolras as he dialled Combeferre’s number. Before he pressed the call button he paused and looked at Grantaire.

“’Aire?”

“Yeah Enjolras?”

“Thanks.”

-x-

Enjolras had thought that having everyone over would make him feel anxious. Ever since the attack he had not been happy being in crowds and the thought of touching people made his skin crawl but being squashed in between Combeferre and Courfeyrac on the sofa with everybody packed into the small living room of the flat did not feel bad. It felt extremely comforting to know that he had people who cared for him so much. He liked not having to think about everything in excruciating detail. His friends helped calm his mind and relax him to the point where he felt safe in their company. Combeferre and Courfeyrac’s arms around his shoulders helped lull him to sleep and as he fell asleep between the two of them he didn’t feel scared anymore. For the first time since he was raped Enjolras slept through the night without any nightmares.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the penultimate chapter. It's basically a monologue for Enjolras.

**Chapter Nine**

Enjolras sat in the therapist’s office fidgeting nervously. After talking to Grantaire the other day he had decided to do what he said and just talk. It still didn’t make any of this any easier for him.

“The problem is I don’t know where to start,” he said quietly. “Sometimes I find it hard to get things straight in my own head. “I’ve never been the sort of person to shy away from anything,” he began. “I’ve always been independent. On my first day of school I was the only one not crying as my mother dropped me off. Whilst the other children clung to their mother’s skirts I just said ‘bye mama,’ and ran off to play with Ferre. I’ve never been afraid to speak my mind even when it got me into trouble. It’s just always been my way.

“I always knew that people were attracted to me, both men and women, but I never paid any attention to it because I knew that I wasn’t attracted to them back. I’ve never felt sexual attraction to anyone but that never bothered me because I had other things to be concerned with. I saw people living on the street and I wanted people to pay attention. I saw injustice everywhere and I wanted to change things so the world was a fairer place. I started a protest group in university and I met some of the best friends of my life. I loved what I did.

“I don’t love it anymore,” he paused and wiped a tear away. “He stopped me from loving it. He forced himself on me and it changed me. I wasn’t the strong, independent man who loved protesting anymore; I was weak and scared and I don’t like feeling that way. I’m tired of crying and I’m tired of jumping at every single sound because I think he’s come back for me because I know if he did then I wouldn’t be able to fight back.

“He made me feel humiliated. He took my virginity and he took my dignity in the worst way possible. I can still feel how painful it was when he forced himself in me. I can still feel the blood on my legs and the feeling of shame that I was even aroused by this. I didn’t understand. I thought it was my fault, that I had led him on somehow, gave him some indication that it was okay to take me like this. No matter how much people told me that it wasn’t my fault I didn’t believe them because it had to be my fault. How could it not be? I had to have done something to make him want me like that.

“It didn’t help that the police didn’t even seem to want to help. I remember being in the hospital after my friends had found me and the doctor who treated me was very sympathetic. She convinced me to notify the police and she was very gentle when she was collecting the evidence but once the police came in I knew they wouldn’t do anything. I overheard them say that men couldn’t be raped because they were always up for sex. Can you believe that? They are supposed to investigate crimes but they didn’t even think what had happened to me as a crime. They never caught him. I don’t even think they even looked for him. Not really. They didn’t care. I think they would have tried harder if it had just been an assault without the rape. At least that would have been seen as an actual crime in their eyes.

“The first time he raped me there was a voice in my head that told me I had to get up; that I couldn’t just lie there and die because then he would have won so I got up and forced myself home. Afterwards, though, I wasn’t so sure. I couldn’t eat and sleeping caused me to have nightmares. I replayed it every night in my head and I didn’t want to sleep. I looked at myself in the mirror every day and I didn’t recognise the man staring at back at me. I lost so much weight and my hair was a mess but the worst part was there was nothing in my eyes.

“Just before he raped me, Stephen said that I had a flame in my eyes that showed how passionate I was but when I looked at myself in the mirror there was nothing. They were dull and lifeless. I was fading away and I had no-one to help me.

“I know it hurt my friends. I shut myself away because I couldn’t even tell them what had happened and I refused to see them. I’ll always remember the shock on Combeferre’s face the first time he saw me. He looked horrified and that look of fear only grew. I thought he was disgusted at me because I was disgusted by myself but he wasn’t. He was scared for me because he didn’t know what was happening to me. He wanted to help but he didn’t know how.

“After the second time I just wanted to die. I was tired of living in this half dead state and I thought it would be better if I was dead. He kept calling me perfect but I wasn’t. How could I be perfect though? He’d destroyed me and left me feeling like an empty shell. So I carved this into my arm,” he showed the therapist his scars, “so that I would always remember that I wasn’t.

“I had thought that I would die and the first time I woke up in the hospital I was devastated that I had failed. I didn’t expect Combeferre and Courfeyrac to find me and I was content just to let myself slip away. They didn’t want that though. They saw me at my weakest point and they still cared. They saw me bloody and defeated and humiliated but that didn’t matter to them. All they saw was that I was in pain and suffering and they wanted to make it better. I was scared of their reaction. I thought they would judge me and hate me for being so weak. I didn’t think that they would understand and think that I should have done more to stop him or push him away but they didn’t. They saw me and they held me in their arms and hugged me.

“They didn’t tell me it was going to be all right because they knew that it wasn’t. They supported me, they held me when I cried and they listened to me as I told them my story. They didn’t judge me. They told me it wasn’t my fault and at first I didn’t believe them but now I do. My friends have been the only reason why I am still here. If I’d been alone I would be dead now but I have the most amazing friends in the world.

“I don’t feel suicidal anymore but I don’t feel myself. I still feel weak and scared and I don’t know what to get myself back to the point where I can spend the night by myself without having nightmares or feeling that he’s going to come back and hurt me again. I don’t want to feel this way anymore. I want to live. I want to be able to go out to work every day and not look over my shoulder every step of the way.

“I know I’m never going to be able to completely go back to my old life. I’m never going to be able to do the things I used to do. I see people protesting on the streets and once upon a time it would have made me want to join in but now I don’t. I see people I knew who expect me to get up and make a speech but instead I just quietly slip away. I have no taste for making myself seen anymore.

“I suppose that is one of the main reasons why I hate him. I’ve never been scared to be in a fight; I’ve been in more than I can count but he has destroyed my self confidence to the point where I can no longer do the thing I loved the most. I’m never going to be able to stand in front of a group of people again and convince them that they should join my cause or to raise awareness of some campaign. I don’t want that life anymore even though it was the life that had defined me. I don’t know who I am anymore.

“That’s what I need to do now, I need to find out who I am. I need to put this behind me and start again and it scares me so much. What if I can’t? What if I don’t like the person I become? What if I never find myself again and I spend the rest of my life feeling lonely and detached? I don’t want that. I want to know what happens next even though I know it’s like skipping to the end of a book when you’ve only just read the first chapter. I have to find myself again and I don’t know if I can.

“I need my friends. I need them to stick by me and keep me in the right direction and I know they will. I know they will stand by my side whatever happens and that makes everything slightly less scary. I just need a little help with the other things.

“I don’t want to be scared anymore.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the final chapter. Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed, it means a lot (this fic turned out longer than my Master's dissertation which was completely unintentional, lol). I wanted to end this story on a hopeful note so it's why I've chosen to end it the way I did.
> 
> Thanks again.

** Chapter Ten **

**_ Six Months Later _ **

Enjolras stood at the window with a cup of coffee and stared at the rising sun.  It was beautiful, he thought, the sky was pink and the sun was just beginning to poke its head over the horizon.  It was on mornings like this that he didn’t feel so bad.

He felt two arms wrap around his waist and a head rested on his shoulders.  “Morning Courf,” he smiled but did not pull away from his friend.  He had come to enjoy the touch-y feeliness of his friend once more and had even come to relish his hugs.

“Morning ‘Jol,” he smiled and kissed his friend on the cheek.  Combeferre had been right, it had taken Courfeyrac less than a week to come up with a new nickname for Enjolras and it had quickly stuck.  “How are you doing this fine morning even though it’s far too early for anyone to be awake?”

“I’m fine.  I just wanted to get up and watch the dawn.  I’ve decided it’s time I started to enjoy the little things in life.”

“Even at insane O’clock in the morning?”

“It’s six am, it’s not like it’s the middle of the night.”

“It is in my opinion,” Courfeyrac said as he pulled away and headed to the kitchen to find coffee.

“Thanks for staying with me last night.  I didn’t really want to be alone with Ferre being on night shift.”

“It’s no problem,” Courfeyrac replied as he took a sip.  He took his place next to Enjolras and stared out of the window.  “Are you nervous about today?”

“Little bit,” Enjolras replied running a hand through his freshly cut hair.  “Starting a new job is always a bit scary.  Ferre said he should be home before I go to say good luck.”

“We should go out tonight and celebrate.”

“I don’t know,” Enjolras said hesitantly.  Even though it had been months since the rape he was still a little bit afraid to be outside in crowds of people.

“Just me, you and Ferre.  We can go to that little restaurant that no-one ever goes to.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad.  I just don’t want to feel too overwhelmed.”

“And we don’t want you to feel overwhelmed but we have to celebrate the good times so that the bad times don’t seem too bad.”

“In that case you’re paying,” Enjolras grinned at Courfeyrac’s mock pouting.

It had been a long road but now Enjolras was finally starting to feel some sort of peace with himself.  He no longer had nightmares but he didn’t really like being alone so when Combeferre was working night shifts Courfeyrac would come over and stay the night.  It comforted Enjolras to know that he was not alone and even though he had come so far he still needed a little bit of help every now and again.

Stephen hadn’t been seen since the night Grantaire had attacked him.  Enjolras had been initially angry that Grantaire for doing that but it had not lasted.  He knew that his friend had been acting in his best interests and if it meant he never saw Stephen again in his life then he couldn’t hate Grantaire for doing what he did.

“How did you sleep?”  Courfeyrac asked.  It had become a habit that he and Combeferre asked Enjolras every day how he was sleeping.

“I dreamt I was being chased by a stapler,” he replied.  “It was one of the most disturbing things I have ever dreamed about.  It had eyes and a mouth and it was yelling at me that I was stapling things wrong.  I guess I really am a little bit anxious for this morning.”

“You’ll feel better once you get there,” Courfeyrac reassured.  “You’ll dazzle them with your amazingness and they’ll all love you.”

“Somehow I don’t think I work like that anymore.”

“You’re more amazing than you give yourself credit for.  You still shine even after everything has happened.”

Enjolras smiled at his friend.  “You’re never going to let me feel down again are you?”

“Nope, it’s my job to make you feel better.”

“I thought it was your job to do paperwork and file things.”

“Meh, that’s not as important as making sure my best friend is all right.”

They were interrupted by Combeferre returning home.  He closed the doors and looked at his friends tiredly.

“Morning, how did you sleep?”  He asked Enjolras who rolled his eyes.

“He dreamt about a stapler chasing him,” Courfeyrac jumped in before Enjolras could respond.  “Make of that what you will.”

Combeferre smiled at the annoyed look Enjolras gave Courfeyrac and he joined his friends, enjoying the view outside.  “It’s going to be a nice day today I think.”

“It’ll make a change from all the rain,” Courfeyrac said.  “Enjolras and I were just discussing going out tonight to celebrate his new employment, what do you think?”

“I think it’s a good idea.  It’s been too long since we went out.”

“Good, then it settled.  I’ll give the restaurant a call and book a table for tonight,” Courfeyrac kissed both of his friends on the cheek.  “Now if you’ll excuse me I have to get ready for work,” and he left Combeferre and Enjolras alone.

“He’s excitable this morning,” Combeferre remarked.

“He had coffee,” Enjolras explained and Combeferre simply nodded.

“That explains it then,” he replied and they both laughed.  “How are you, really?”  He asked noticing the unsure look in Enjolras’ eyes.

“Nervous mostly,” Enjolras responded.  “It’s been a while since I’ve been employed.  I’m excited too.  I never thought I would get to the point where I would be able to work again.  It finally feels like things are getting back to normal.”

“Good, as long as you don’t feel you’re taking on too much.”

“I’m not.  It feels right.”

Enjolras felt as though he had come a long way from the day he had been raped.  It hadn’t been easy and there had often been times when he hadn’t thought he would make it but he had.  He wasn’t the same person as he had been before; he was more introverted and pensive and he hadn’t come through the ordeal on the other side completely unscathed but he was alive.  He was alive, he had a new job and most importantly he had his friends.  Stephen hadn’t won.  He had broken him but his friends had put him back together and even though he wasn’t the same person as he was before he was a survivor.

He had survived and that was the greatest victory in itself.


End file.
